http://www.jewishworldreview.com --
OH, NO, they can't take that away from me. GM nixed our fathers'
Oldsmobile Ah, the Delta 88. It had the aura of arrival without the pretense
of a Cadillac. The Olds was dignity. No one ever used the back seat of an
Olds for untoward activity. Buick resorted to Wildcat models and Pontiac has
Trans Am, the car of mid-life crisis that becomes the tool of 17-year-old
boys in defying speed bumps.

Oldses were equipped with homing devices for civilized beauty shops wherein
the stench of "waves" (translation: perms) and weight of gossip took your
breath away. Today's beauty shops malign hairspray and have the feel of
Tower Records. God-fearing gossip was never meant to be shouted above decibel
disco beats to men wearing too much black. Semis outside a restaurant mean
good, cheap food and an Olds outside a beauty shop meant hair that stays in
place until next week's appointment.

Just days after they took away the Olds, Montgomery Wards closed its doors.
Wards was inexpensive, but reliable. Not trendy, but timeless, or so we
thought. Folks don't want clothing purchased with Maytag's line in view.

Youngsters don't want pearls from a joint that sells hack saws. The
polyester clothing lines at Ward's were tough to distinguish from fall
foliage. Today's 24/7 sophisticates never found the Ward's charm. Now Sears
has closed 89 stores. Can this nation survive without Kenmore?

Then Frieda Pushnik died. Can the world ever be right again? Frieda
Pushnik, 77, born without arms and legs, was known in Ripley's world and
Barnum's circus as the "Limbless Half-Girl." She made her living on display
in what was referred to in our candor days as "freak shows."

When asked whether it was acceptable to be stared at Frieda put Sixty Minutes
in its place, "If you're paid for it, yeah." I knew of Frieda as a child
because she hailed from our neighboring town of Conemaugh, Pa. She lost her
limbs in utero when a doctor botched her mother's appendectomy. The thought
of a malpractice suit never crossed the Pushniks' minds. Unable to afford a
wheelchair, they put wheels on a high chair and Frieda was off and running,
in her own fashion.

Using only stumps, she fed herself, sewed and crocheted. She earned a nice
living traveling around the world on display, retiring to Costa Mesa, Ca. in
a tastefully decorated home with a real wheelchair, complete with jaguar
fabric.

These too-frequent demises from beauty shops to Frieda pain the tender heart.

The greatest generation is leaving us and taking its stores and autos. It's
not just the loss of their beauty shops or that future generations may never
know that canned evaporated milk is what you use to sweeten coffee and tea.
It is their spirit that I mourn. Frieda Pushnik was the embodiment of their
can-do, non-government program ethic of taking what life handed to you and
forging onward without excuses.

Their spirit was quality without pretense. Elegance without designer logos.
Achievement despite obstacles. Solutions, not statutes. Ambition, not
rationalization. Overcoming rather than litigating. Dignity and
sportsmanship, not whining. This week the YMCA had to hand out a code of
ethics for parents' behavior at games. And our departing president took
cheap shots at our incoming one, going so far as to question his legitimacy.
He broke a presidential code of honor over 200 years old. Dignity once
stopped such stings.

I mourn the loss of the reason, restraint and refinement of WWIIers. Their
classy understatement had them wait patiently as their baby boomer children
tried growing up. They questioned our "divorce is better for everyone" phase
until social scientists confirmed what they said all along - stay married.

They were mocked when they clucked about "free love" but now we know nothing
comes without costs and/or STD. They objected to the welfare state and the
great society and survived our condemnations for their cold hearts. Now we
understand they were right about work, limited handouts and dignity. The
dot-commies' lectures about "new economy" seem silly now as they experience
the poverty from unemployment, failed companies, wild debt, wilder spending
and Lexus vehicles. The greatest generation's lessons of thrift haven't
trickled down to their grandchildren and their baby boomer children never had
much credibility with their Gen X spawn.

The greatest generation has been trying to help us grow up since Woodstock
and just as we finally catch on; they leave us with too little time to tap
into their wisdom and depth. They have packed up theirs Oldses and are
driving into the sunset in search of that great beauty shop and multi-purpose
department store in the sky.

The way they did their hair, the way they chose their cars, the way they
shopped with thrift, the way they persevered, the way they sweetened their
tea, oh, no, they can't take that away from me.

The spirit of Frieda Pushkin
shall live on so long as I can get my hands on a can of hair
spray.

JWR contributor Marianne M. Jennings is a professor of legal and ethical studies at Arizona State
University. Send your comments by clicking here.

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